Realize
by Magickal-Phay
Summary: Nick has a feeling for his fellow survivor, Ellis. Little does he know that Ellis has the same thoughts.
1. Falling For You

Falling For You

If there's one thing worse than fighting a zombie apocalypse, it was fighting a zombie apocalypse with a mofo of a migraine. Especially when torturing a bastard like Nick. Nick had forgotten how ruthless migraines could be. Even though he took twice the recommended dosage of pain pills six hours before, his head still throbbed and his attitude sucked more than ever. 

And as fate would have it, Ellis was talking continuously, more so than yesterday.

"Y'know, Ro'? I thought of becomin' a reportuh once, but then I thought that my accent an' all would pro'lly annoy the - ,"

"Ellis," Nick growled.

"Yeah, Nick?"

"Shut. The fuck. Up."

Ellis scrunched his eyebrows at Nick's sudden sharp comment. He shrugged.

"Okay," he said.

The four survivors walked on the road in the middle of a deserted town; it was void of all life, obviously, the infected were few and in between. And if that didn't set anyone on edge, there was a problem.

"I know it may sound cliché an' all, but don't it seem too quiet?" Ellis asked.

"Yeah, let's keep it that way," Nick spat.

"Okay, ladies," Coach huffed. "Ellis is right. Don't get too comfortable."

"I dunno 'bout yew, Coach, but I'd like to see if there are any of them zombies in close vicinity. We should git a bird's eye view."

Coach grunted in agreement.

"Them steps on the side of that bank should take us to the roof. We can scout an' take a breather."

Rochelle and Coach agreed and veered to the left of the street towards the old bank. The metal stairs made weird echoes as all eight feet stomped up them, much to Nick's distaste.

Someone had already been on the roof. Two sleeping bags were crumpled a stiff pile. They had bloody crust on them, which tied in with the bloody footprints leading away and off the roof. Ellis followed them and looked over the edge. He grinned.

"Stupid zombies jumping off roofs. Nick, you should see how this dude landed! I mean, I know it's only two storeys, but man oh man!"

"I'll pass."

Nick plopped down on top of one of the sleeping bags and pressed his index finger and thumb against the bridge of his nose.

"Rochelle and I will look for supplies. There could be a map down in the bank or a gas station close by. We'll be right back."

Coach shifted his auto-shotgun onto his shoulder securely and turned back to the stairs with Rochelle on his heels.

Ellis kept looking out over the horizon, smiling wide.

"Not an infected in sight. Ain't that a beauty?"

Nick didn't respond. He just seemed too focussed on his breathing. He started catching his breath.

"Shit!" With a gargle and a lurch, Nick vomited all over his crotch.

"Nick!" Ellis cried, alarmed. He turned and rushed over to the conman. He crouched next to him.

Nick stared at his pants, his heart racing. He dared not look at Ellis with him so close. Being secretly attracted to the hick, Nick naturally compensated by being an asshole all the while fantasizing about Ellis'. Nick never told anyone, though. He felt ashamed and angry with himself. Rochelle was just not "likable" in that sense, looks aside. And Coach was Coach. But Ellis was this young boy who was having the time of his life. Nick felt like he was about to take advantage of that. That and he was also in the middle of questioning his sexual orientation with a throbbing headache. Basically, with all his sexual tension making him burst at the seams, even having Ellis close was a massive turn on.

"Crap," Nick mumbled.

Ellis scratched his forehead and reached for the other sleeping bag.

"It's alright, man. We'll jus' use this an' we'll wipe it up."

Before Nick could interject (if he wanted to, that is), Ellis was wiping up the slime gently from the fabric around his thighs. Nick's eyelashes fluttered at the contact. Ellis' gaze was covered by the bill of his cap. Nick gulped and tried to keep a steady breathing pace. Ellis started to shift up to Nick's slightly throbbing crotch. Nick caught his breath.

"Ellis?" he panted.

"Yeah?"

"Stop touching me."

It was unbearable to say that, but Nick didn't want Ellis to see any movement in his pants. God, he was hopeless. Where was his damn poker face when he needed it? It's not like he meant to be snappy. But when trying to hide arousal as well as emotions while battling a headache, having someone a foot away from your crotch doesn't help. That, and arousal could lead to contact. Contact could lead to attachment; that was the last thing Nick wanted.

Ellis dropped the bag immediately and stood up.

"Jus' tryin' tuh help," he murmured.

Nick kept his mouth shut to not say something offending. He just wiped the rest of the slime away from his pants.

"My effing suit..." he grumbled. "If it gets any dirtier, I'm gonna be pissed."

"Wish yuh luck!" Ellis chirped with a small laugh. He slowly walked over to the edge of the roof again.

Nick rubbed his left arm with his right hand. He felt a little better after throwing up, but some of the pain was still clinging onto him. Ellis looked over his shoulder with a wide grin.

"Y'know, that jus' reminded me of this one time my buddy Keith an' -"

"Ellis," Nick piped up, "now's not the best time."

"Aw, c'mon, Nick. It'll make yew feel better! I promise!" Ellis replied.

"Later."

"Fine. Suit yersel -"

Suddenly, a smoker's tongue shot from the street and coiled itself around Ellis' torso and neck. It tore him off his feet, draggin him towards the edge of the roof. His hat flew off and started gliding down to the street below. With his free arm, he throttled the slimy appendage encasing him.

"SHI -" Ellis' scream was cut off as the tongue constricted his throat.

"Ellis!" Nick cried. He leapt to his feet and pulled out his gun. By the time he raised it, Ellis was gone. Nick towards the eaves.

Nick froze at the sound of the crunch of wood... or was that bone?

Nick peered over the edge. The tongue was drawn taught as it dragged Ellis off the sidewalk below. Blood started dripping from his slightly open mouth and his body was limp. His lifeless arm followed the rest of him at an odd angle. The broken window glass scraped against the road as Ellis' body smeared over it.

There was no other sound.

Nick clambered over the edge of the building and hung there for a moment before letting go. His ankles buckled under the impact. One of his knees folded like an auditorium chair and smashed onto the road. He gritted his teeth and forced himself up, sprinting after Ellis.

Ellis collided with a parked car. From the other side of it, the smoker tried to wrench him free.

"Back off, you zombie fucker!" Nick bellowed. He raised his gun, fuelled by pure rage and pain. He emptied out all fifteen bullets before the smoker fell to the ground behind a puff of smoke. The tongue unravelled from Ellis' body. He was propped up against the side of the car.

Nick didn't slow down. He collapsed beside Ellis, grabbing his left arm after tossing his hand gun carelessly to the side.

"Ellis! C'mon, talk to me, kid!" Nick cried.

Ellis didn't move. His eyes were slightly open and more blood oozed out of his mouth and a gash on his eyebrow. But raspy breaths were still audible. His eyes shifted.

"Kid?"

Ellis gasped and choked on the blood in his mouth. Blood speckled around his upper lip and Nick's cheeks. He swallowed and started breathing faster. His eyes fluttered and looked around frantically.

"It's okay. Calm down," Nick murmured softly. Ellis' eyes met with his. He started growling and grunting. "Easy, Ellis."

"Nnnnikj," he forced out, sending more blood spilling out onto his Bull Shifters shirt. He used his uninjured arm and grasped Nick's. He kept holding his breath and gritting his teeth.

"Nick!" Rochelle and Coach were running up the street.

"What the hell happened, boy? We heard screaming!"

"Ellis is down," Nick replied. Rochelle and Coach came around the edge of the car and grimaced at the sight.

"I can't leave you two for a minute," Coach grumbled. He knelt next to them. Tears streamed from Ellis' eyes in massive quantities. His knuckles were white as they squeezed the fabric of Nick's suit.

"What happened?" Rochelle asked.

"Smoker pulled him off the roof."

Rochelle looked back to the bank which was a good twenty feet behind them. Add that distance to the two storeys he fell, and you've got a potentially fatal injury.

"I jumped down to get him," Nick continued. Ellis looked at Nick. He tried to move the upper part of his body, but he lurched back to his previous position, yelling out in pain. He slammed his head into the car holding him up.

"His shoulder's dislocated," Rochelle stated. She pulled her med-kit from her back and unzipped it. Coach reached for the awkwardly bent arm and grabbed it. Ellis screamed.

"It's okay, I've dealt with this type of thing with the team back home," Coach said. Ellis was trembling. His eyes started to waver.

"Ellis! Stay with me, kiddo!" Nick shouted. Ellis blinked hard and looked into Nick's eyes again. "Just stay with me. Everything will be okay, y'hear? We're not going to let this little thing -,"

CRACK!

Coach popped the shoulder back into place. Ellis screamed in agony, sobbing, any words drowned in blood.

"What the hell, Coach?" Nick yelled.

"He had to be relaxed so I had to do it before he realized what I was doin'." Blood kept interfering with Ellis' speech. He kept slurring things, reeling in pain.

"Did he break a rib? That could've ruptured a lung," Rochelle stated as she pulled out some antiseptic wipes.

"Wouldn't surprise me," Coach mumbled. Ellis shook his head sharply. Nick raised his eyebrows. "Broken teeth, perhaps?"

Ellis didn't speak, but replied by showing everyone his intact, red teeth. He slowly started to part his jaws to show the inside of his mouth. Rochelle's eyes widened.

"Holy!" she gasped. Coach's jaw dropped. Nick flinched.

Ellis had bitten his tongue. Not through it, but enough to cause a lot of damage.

"Ow?" Coach said. Ellis nodded and blinked again. More tears streamed down his cheeks, making funny markings in the blood.

Rochelle approached Ellis' face with a roll of gauze and rubbing alcohol in hand. Ellis clamped his mouth shut, breathing heavily.

"We have to stop the blood, Hun."

"Mm-mm," he squeaked. He eventually opened his mouth to spit out more blood.

"Would you feel better if Nick did it?" she asked.

"Huh?" Nick's head snapped up. Rochelle was being sarcastic, but Ellis looked down, thinking.

"Mm-hmm." Nick stared at Ellis. Ellis didn't look up.

"You sure you want me to do it?" Nick asked.

"Mm-hmm," he repeated.

Nick looked over at Rochelle, who gave shrugged, opening the bottle of alcohol. She poured some onto Nick's dirty hands. He rubbed them together, wincing at the sting in his scrapes. He didn't say anything. Ellis was the one going through the real pain. Nick wrapped a foot of gauze around his index and middle fingers. He gently grasped Ellis' quivering chin and pulled it down. He gazed into Ellis' eyes and slid his fingers into his bloody mouth without breaking the stare. Ellis gasped and squeezed Nick's arm. His back arched with the sudden pressure and pain. He squeezed his eyes shut.

"Just don't bite me, kid."

Ellis wriggled, growling and crying as Nick maintained pressure on his throbbing tongue. But at least the kid was careful to not bite.

Nick slowly slipped his fingers out of Ellis' mouth to replace the soiled gauze. He repeated this routine until the blood flow slowed to a non-threatening level; at the same time, Rochelle and Coach cleaned his scrapes and gashes that were mostly caused from the shards of glass on the ground.

"Keep this in your mouth," Nick said. He placed a clean wad of gauze into the hick's raw mouth. The kid closed it, still looking at Nick. All in all, Ellis' arms and lower back were covered in bandages. He still couldn't move his arm properly, but at least it was where it was supposed to be.

"There's a safe house across town," Rochelle said. "We'll go there and regroup."

Nick nodded and leaned over Ellis. He slid his hands gingerly under his back, trying not to hurt him too much.

"Let's get you back on your feet," he mumbled in his ear. Ellis hooked his good arm around Nick's back. He heaved him up to his feet. Nick positioned himself under Ellis' good shoulder and held him close. They took a few steps before Nick grunted and limped. Ellis looked over at him. Nick cursed under his breath quietly. Rochelle and Coach didn't notice, their guns ready for any infected they had to re-kill and were a few feet in front of them.

Ellis looked at Nick with one brow furrowed. The other was still raw and bleeding slowly.

"I might've busted my knees back there," he grumbled.

Ellis leaned his head in close, nudging Nick's forehead slightly.

"No more head ache. I guess you scared it away," Nick chuckled through scowls.

Ellis shifted his arm and wrapped his arm around Nick's back; a humorous swich-er-oo. Nick tried to pull away. The hick's toned arm held firm.

You ain't carrying me with screwed up legs.

Ellis' voice rang clear in Nick's imagination. Nick rested his arm on the mechanic's shoulders and the two of them limped on towards the safe house across town.


	2. Hershey's Kisses

Hershey's Kisses

It took until nightfall to reach the safe house. Between that time and the smoker attack, Nick's knee had swelled to three times its normal size and he griped with every other step; Ellis' face was pale as he dragged Nick on. Nick hated the irony: Ellis was pulled off a roof and plummeted two storeys, dragged twenty feet through glass and gravel with a dislocated shoulder and a graphically bitten tongue, only to get pulled up and under Nick's arm to drag him on his way. He felt like a selfish bastard. That kid was fucking tough.

"Safe house ahead!" Coach barked. Ellis looked up, sweat trickling down his temples. He repositioned Nick's arm and tightened his grip around his waist. He quickened his pace. Coach squinted towards the building reinforced with the trademark steel walls and red door. His eyes widened.

"Rochelle, pass me your snipe," he said quietly. Ellis tensed and winced as he stopped. His eyes darted around him. Nick craned his neck as Rochelle cautiously placed her gun in Coach's outstretched hands. He peered through the scope towards the safe house. Rochelle pulled out her pistol and raised it. Nick placed his free arm on his holster. Ellis' back muscles shook and his arms were numb, but he lifted Nick higher to keep him level.

"Talk to us, Coach," Nick ordered as he pulled his handgun out.

"Well, I think God has answered our prayers," he said. He lowered the gun and broke into a chuckle. "The safe house is a goddamn candy shop." He handed the gun back. "Cheeseburger apocalypse can wait!"

Five minutes later, Coach was wrenching open the door to Cindy's Candy Extravaganza. All four clambered inside and Rochelle shut the door. Ellis wavered.

"Ellis?" Nick looked at him, concerned. Ellis didn't look up. His eyes were drooping and his face was white as a sheet. His breaths were raspy. "Kid?"

"Let's get you two into the stock room," Coach said. "There are some sleeping bags in there and a few medical kits." He turned and grabbed a jar of Hershey's Kisses.

"C'mon, kid. Hurry up."

Nick stepped forward on his good leg and started pulling the two of them past the counter with the cash register. Coach was setting up a sleeping bag behind the counter and under the shelves filled with full jars of candy. They trudged towards the back of the building and hung a right into a stock room. There were empty metal shelves lining the sides of the room and a bathroom was at the back of the room. Rochelle eased the two men onto a pair of sleeping bags laid out on the floor. Nick sat down and straightened out his legs. Ellis was carefully guided onto his stomach. What used to be a brown Bull Shifters shirt was now a red and damp rag. Rochelle pulled the shirt off Ellis which revealed his blood-soaked bandages. She reached up to a shelf and pulled down a first aid kit.

Ellis' gaze morphed into pain and fear. He tried to prop himself back up, shaking his head; exhaustion held him at bay.

"Ellis, I just need to replace your bandages," Rochelle said sweetly. She pulled out some big scissors that could severe a finger. She slipped one blade under the bandages and started to snip them away.

Before peeling away the gauze, Rochelle stepped into the bathroom and turned the tap. Water streamed over her hands as she scrubbed them clean. Nick dragged himself up and hopped over on one leg to do the same. He shrugged off his blazer, letting it crumple to the floor. He unbuttoned his sleeves and pushed them up to his elbows. He leaned in towards Rochelle.

"How bad is it?" he whispered.

"He's lost a lot of blood. Until I see how bad it is, I don't know," she replied. She pulled some paper towel down onto her dripping hands.

"Well, why didn't you deal with it two fuckin' hours ago?" he snarled as he lathered his hands with the pink soap.

"We were working from the sides and we were outside in the middle of a war zone," she retorted. She glared up at Nick. "And the least you could do is fucking help."

Nick snapped his gaze to her. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?" he said under his breath so Ellis wouldn't hear.

"Seriously, Nicolas?" she said, raising her voice. "We know that you're only out for yourself and no one else but never in my life have I seen someone so selfish and condescending to use someone with that kind of trauma as a crutch."

"Listen, sweetheart," he growled sarcastically, "I was going to help Ellis, okay? But my leg's fucked up, which I couldn't help and -,"

"Oh, please," Rochelle scoffed. She turned on her heel and rushed over to Ellis. Nick ripped some paper towel off for himself with a little too much force. Rochelle peeled the dressings from Ellis' back.

Rochelle squeaked. Nick sped into the room, hopping like Terry Fox. Nick drew in a long breath and covered his mouth, swallowing, as he looked at Ellis' back.

First of all, all of the hick's skin was covered head to toe in road rash. Secondly, there was a gross yellowish green bruise covering his right shoulder blade that was bigger than Nick's hand. To top it off, his lower back had long, shallow vertical gashes all over it. And to make it all worse, there were giant pieces of glass still wedged in them.

"Well," said Nick, "looking out for number one has one important benefit built right in."

"And what the hell is that?"

"I had to be my own doctor," he replied. "I can deal with this. You go run and make sure Coach isn't giving himself diabetes. While you're at it, see if you can get some boiling water. Oh, and some insulin for the big guy, just in case."

Rochelle glared at the conman, but disgusted from Ellis' wounds, she stood up and walked out of the room without arguing. Nick shut the door behind her. Ellis was still looking around, eyes wide and skin white.

"It's okay, kid. I'll fix yah up," he said.

Nick lifted his right leg and dragged himself on top of Ellis's backside to get a better view of the gashes. He pulled out a pair of long tweezers. He split one of the gashes open wide and exposed a jagged piece of glass. He took the tweezers and clamped onto the fragment, pulling it out roughly. After he extracted the piece fully, blood filled the slit. Then he started digging again. Ellis writhed and wriggled and tensed every time the pointy metal invaded his flesh to remove what looked like hundreds of pieces of glass and rock; every piece Nick pulled out, more anger built up within him as he thought 'this was cutting him apart for the past two hours'. An hour passed before Nick was satisfied that there was no more glass under his skin. Rochelle opened the door and placed a steaming pot of water inside the room.

"How's everything?" she asked quietly.

"Better," he replied. Rochelle nodded and left.

Ellis groaned. His knuckles were turning white from clutching the sleeping bag. Nick grabbed some more gauze and started to dab around the gashes with the hot water.

"You're lucky that these aren't deep."

Nick gently patted the entire area of Ellis' raw back. Soon, he could wrap gauze all around his torso, now that the wounds were free of dirt and glass.

When he finished tying the bandages, Nick, not playing the role of doctor any more, found himself extremely aroused by the situation. Every time Ellis flinched, he tensed everywhere. Even his ass tensed. Nick realized how embarrassingly aroused he was.

Shit, he couldn't even treat the kid without getting a boner.

Nick quickly slid off Ellis to sit on the floor, clearing his throat. Ellis lifted his head, looking a little better than earlier. Nick looked down at the kid.

"All better," he said. "Just don't get pounced or anything for the next week."

The corner of Ellis mouth twitched into a smile.

Nick was trying to cover his crotch the health pack as he zipped it up. A sudden pain shot up his leg.

"Ah, shit!" he yelped. Ellis sat up. Nick rolled up his pant leg to reveal his very pinkish-green, bleeding, swollen knee. "Tits," he muttered.

Ellis cracked his neck and rolled his shoulders, wincing. He repositioned himself so that he was on his knees facing Nick. He pulled the wad of gauze out of his mouth.

"My turn," he said slowly. Nick tried to not stare at his toned chest as Ellis pulled out a tensor bandage. He pulled off the plastic cover. He lifted Nick's leg and unrolled the bandage to wrap it around the enlarged joint. Nick grimaced as Ellis bound the bandage and secured it with the included metal clips.

"Okay -; "

Ellis wasn't finished. Looking up with his blue eyes, Ellis leaned his face closer to Nick's knee. Nick watched, bewildered, as Ellis parted his lips and kissed his injury.

As fast as it had happened, Ellis was upright again with a giant grin.

The kid was playing around, just playing around. Nick was getting far too worked up.

'You're angry at yourself, Nick. You're not angry at Ellis. Keep it together! Don't fold!'

"What the hell, Ellis?" he said, pulling himself up. He raised his voice without meaning to. His head was spinning and his heart was racing. He tried to calm himself, but once he got going there was no turning back.

"What the fuck was that for?" he asked loudly. "You want me to give you another injury?" he shouted. Ellis backed up towards the wall, frightened. It made Nick's temper worsen. "Oh, and thanks for fuckin' up my leg, too, you hick! If you didn't keep your fuckin' mouth shut and paid attention on that fuckin' roof, my knee would be okay and I wouldn't have to deal with you."

Ellis ducked his head lower, staring right into Nick's cold eyes.

"Not like I don't do that enough! Every fuckin' time we go outside, you're the one getting hurt! Witches, Chargers, Spitters, Hunters, what the fuck? This entire thing has been a game for you! I hope to fucking god that you learned your lesson today! So, just, fuckin', argh!"

Nick spun around and stormed into the bathroom, slamming the door shut. He pressed his back against the cool wood and smashed his head into it, punishing himself. He looked at his hands that had Ellis' blood on them. He stepped up to the sink, wrenched the tap over, and scrubbed them clean twice, thoughts whirring around in his head.

The kid was fuckin' terrified of him. Even if he was the only one getting hurt out there, he never looked so scared. The light in his eyes dimmed and that smile vanished as quickly as it appeared. Ellis was just fooling around, Nick knew that. But he was just so overwhelmed. This... this was exactly why he didn't want to get close. Because people like Ellis who get close to people like Nick get hurt. He loved that kid and he had to accept that. But just the thought of Ellis shimmying backward and cowering from him wrenched his heart. When he looked right into his eyes, Nick felt hopeless. Menacing. Cold.

Nick cupped some of the cold water in his hands, splashing it over his face. He reached down with water in his eyes and placed his hands around the sink to lean on it. He hung his head low, shaking with rage and regret. He couldn't go out there now. He was never good at apologizing. Instead of saying sorry to his parents, he left home to play poker for fun, which turned out way too successful to be true. Instead of apologizing to all his girlfriends, he just packed his things and left. Instead of apologizing to Ellis for being an asshole, he acted like a bastard. Slight difference.

With water still dripping off his skin, Nick glared at his own reflection in the dirty mirror. He curled his hand into a fist, staring into his own hard green eyes: the same eyes that Ellis was looking into. Everything came around to that final moment; a staring contest. With a snarl and a smirk, he swung his fist back and punched the mirror, making it crack into a spider web, obscuring his reflection.

~`~`~

It was so clear. One minute, he was firm on his feet. The next, he was flying through the air, down, down, down towards the concrete in a slimy embrace before smashing onto its hard surface, his head being cushioned by a rotting body. He couldn't move, couldn't breathe. He couldn't cry out for help this time. But then an angel clad in trademark white was chasing after him, saving him, healing him, comforting him.

Nick.

He found himself lost in the conman's green eyes as if he were staring at olives and emeralds and cedar tendrils.

Suddenly, he heard his angry yells surround him as the green turned to gray. He felt hopeless, helpless, broken. Soon, the gray faded into a deep crimson as he fell like Alice into a lake of blood. There was no angel to save him this time.

Ellis gasped and bolted upright. It felt like his heart was going to leap out of his chest.

A nightmare. Just a nightmare.

Ellis' skin crawled as the nightmare started to thin out in his memory. His entire throat felt bruised from the previous day after being strangled. His tongue felt raw and tasted like blood. His back tingled as his nerves fired up to inform him that, yes, his skin was still fileted. His shirt was beside him, stiff from his dry blood. He threw the sleeping bag off his legs and stood up. He approached the closed door of the bathroom and knocked.

No answer.

Ellis licked his lips. He realized that he hadn't seen Nick exit the bathroom the previous night. Ellis had fallen asleep before the door opened. He actually sulked himself to sleep, but that wasn't the point. The point was Nick wasn't answering him. Was he really that mad? Still?

"Nick?" he asked slowly. He winced slightly at the movement of his tongue against the roof of his mouth. He knocked again.

It would make sense that Nick wouldn't answer him. He messed up; he shouldn't have kissed his knee. Ellis just thought in the moment that it would help lighten the mood. Maybe Nick was thinking that Ellis had the wrong idea and wanted more. Even though that was true, Ellis would have never approached him like that. Not out of respect. Just so he wouldn't get his face punched in or get shot.

Ellis reached out and placed his rough hand on the door knob. He rotated it and pushed open the door slowly. He didn't hear Nick yell at him. Ellis started to worry and hesitated. He shoved the door open.

Empty.

Ellis was staring at the cracked mirror like a witch caught in the flashlight; that sudden frozen state you go into for a split second until you brain tells you to wake the hell up. Or kill everything you see.

Ellis spun around on his heel and ran to the door of the stock room. He tore it open, straining his shoulder. Rochelle and Coach were snoring quietly. Ellis looked around the shop. There were no more rooms Nick could go to. Ellis eyes stopped at the counter where Rochelle's snipe was placed close enough to swipe to ward off any infected at any moment.

The only problem: it wasn't there. Neither was one of the medical packs or bottle of pills or the Molotov set up to go in case of emergency. And Nick was nowhere to be found.

Ellis ran to Rochelle and shook her awake.

"Ro!"

"Mmmm," Rochelle moaned angrily.

"Ro!"

"Ellis, please."

"ROCHELLE!" he yelled. Rochelle opened her tired eyes and Coach stirred.

"What the hell?" she asked angrily. She looked at Ellis' expression. "Wait, what's wrong?"

"He's gone!"

"What's goin' on, boy?" Coach grumbled.

"He's gone!" Ellis repeated. "The gun's missin' and he's gone!" Rochelle reached up and groped the empty counter.

"Oh, that sick sonuvabitch!" she cried. "It took me ages to find that thing!"

"Well?" Ellis asked frantically.

"Well what, son?" Coach said sardonically. "It's not like he had to stay with us. Hell, I knew this day was comin', anyhow. From day one."

"But we need 'im!"

Correction. Ellis needed him. Wanted him. Craved him.

"We can hold our own. We'll just have to step up to make up for the lost gun power."

"How's your back sweetie?" Rochelle asked with a trace of bitterness still in her voice.

"Ro!" Ellis cried. "He's out there! Alone!"

"He is not our problem," she said. She pushed her sleeping back off her legs. "Coach, when are we leaving?"

"A-S-A-P," he said. He stood up and appeared behind the counter.

Ellis gulped and retreated from Rochelle, walking back to the stock room. Nick wouldn't leave. He wouldn't. They were a team! He staggered through the door frame and scanned the room. Defiant like always, he lifted his sleeping bag, Nick's sleeping bag, he looked under his crumpled shirt, he even looked in his boots for any clues Nick would have left him.

Nothing.

Defeated, Ellis gathered his shirt and stumbled into the bathroom. He put it into the sink and filled it with cold water. He stared as the blood started oozing out of the fabric to tint the water with silken threads. Suddenly, something caught his eye from behind the open door. Something white.

Ellis pulled back the door and peeked behind it. Nick's blazer was laying there, wrinkled and wedged between the wall and the door. With a deft swipe, he picked up the jacket and ran back to Rochelle and Coach. He flailed it around, triumphant.

"Guys!" he cried. Rochelle and Coach turned. Their eyebrows rose. They looked at each other. Rochelle inhaled long and deep.

"Bastard wouldn't leave his damn coat behind," she muttered. Coach shook his head.

"Fine, I'll admit we can spare some time to give him a chance to come back."

Coach wasn't happy, though. He turned and grabbed a jar of Coke balls and sat back down on his sleeping bag, mumbling.

Ellis grinned slightly and walked back into the stock room. He shut the door and leaned against it. He slid down it until he was sitting on the freezing, smooth cement. He stared at Nick's coat bunched up in his rigid hands. Finally, his voice had done some good.

Ellis never realized it until that moment; how much he needed Nick. He always trusted Nick the most and always tried to impress him with a funny story just to see him smile. He never knew why...never knew that he wanted Nick to feel the same way he did. But Nick was thirty five and knew what the hell he wanted and what the hell his priorities were. Ellis was twenty three and never had a girlfriend before in his life. Also, he had to get over the fact that he'd go to Hell if he came to terms with himself liking another man. Ellis felt like he was already there, anyhow.

Anyway, Nick would never be like that. He wouldn't love Ellis and any chance of him remotely liking him was whisked away last night. Ellis knew that.

A lump rose in his throat as tears filled his eyes and streaked over his cheeks. He shivered as the chill from the floor encased his body. He brought the jacket closer to him, smelling it and hugging it. He wrapped himself up in it and pressed his fist to his mouth. He looked at the left of the coat to the collar. A lip print set in red popped from the fabric. A sudden desire crept over the kid.

It was as if he were in a trance as he pulled the collar closer to him. He closed his eyes, sending more tears rolling over his skin, and put his lips over the fabric to seal a secret kiss over the one he was so jealous of.


	3. False Assumptions

False Assumptions

Ellis eyes snapped open from kissing the stiff fabric of Nick's empty coat at the sound of a single gunshot from outside the shop.

"Shit!" Coach yelled.

Ellis leapt to his feet and opened the door to the shop. Coach was loading his auto-shotgun while Rochelle muttered a curse as she shoved a round of ammo into her pistol. She whirled around and peered out of the steel door. Another gun shot went off, connecting with metal this time. The shriek of a car alarm sliced through the air and pierced through the guts of every survivor.

Without thinking, Ellis grabbed a cricket-bat from the floor and kicked open the door. A blast of force surged up his leg and into the rest of his body as the impact sent the door swinging open. A gust of wind caressed his bandaged chest. Rochelle and Coach yelled after Ellis as he jumped through the doorway and sprinted in the direction of the blaring car.

It was Nick, he knew it was Nick. Only a clever son of a bitch would send a signal like this. It was his trademark – he always shot cars when they were far away enough so they could throw a Molotov or a pipe bomb at the swarming horde.

Ellis skidded to a halt as zombies started filling the streets from every possible access point. They were aiming for a bright blue Prius as its headlights flashed and its alarm screamed away. Ellis' eyes shot this way and that, looking desperately for some flash of white. If Nick was wearing his damn jacket, he could see him instantly.

"Shit!"

Nick was in the middle of the street on his knees and one of his hands. His other hand was covering his face. Blood dripped through his fingers. Ellis sprinted over to him, heart pounding. He threw the paddle to the side and stooped over Nick. Nick looked up and squinted at Ellis' face.

"Nick, c'mon, you gotta git up!" Ellis shouted. He wrapped his arms around him and hauled him to his feet. He grabbed Rochelle's fallen sniper rifle and shoved it into his other arm. He practically carried him as he led him towards the safe house. Rochelle and Coach were waving their arms as if that would make Ellis run faster. Suddenly, they started to shoot around him. Nick looked over Ellis' shoulder.

"They noticed!" he said. Ellis glanced over his other shoulder to see the infected running towards the two of them.

Ellis swallowed, a sudden realization coming over him. Even if he was running as fast as he could, Nick was slowing them down. And the infected were hot on their tails. Ellis turned his eyes over to Nick. They locked eyes.

"Wait, kid, no!" Nick yelled. Ellis placed his hand on the small of Nick's back and shoved him forward while slipping the sniper rifle from his hand. Rochelle ran out into the square and grabbed Nick before he could turn around. Ellis straightened his posture and faced the horde. He brought the large gun to his face and placed his hand over the trigger. Everything snapped to slow-motion like in a Hollywood production.

No more games. No more showing off. This was pure protection at its finest. He risked his life before for Nick, but never like this. His heart pounded in his ears in a slow manner. At that moment, it was all he could hear. If he didn't make it through this, Ellis prayed to God that Nick would realize why exactly he was sacrificing himself; because he loved him. And that was the only reason why he stood his ground, clad only in his denim jumpsuit and gauze with a half-loaded sniper rifle. He drew in a deep breath and squeezed the trigger.

The shot brought everything back to real-time. One zombie fell, tripping three others. Ellis shot four more before they were an arm's width away. He flipped the rifle over in his hands and started to swing it at their heads. It turned out to be more effective than originally planned. He started to inch his way back towards the candy shop while Coach shot around him. Rochelle struggled with Nick to get him inside as he yelled after Ellis, but his limp weakened him to the point where the reporter could easily shove him inside.

"Watch out!" Coach screamed. Ellis turned and watched Coach draw his hand back and throw it forward, releasing a pipe bomb. Ellis ducked as it clinked to the ground in front of him. He turned away from it, counting down five seconds. A zombie grabbed his bandages, holding him back.

"Git it off!" he screamed. Three seconds.

He elbowed the zombie in the face. It fell to the ground. Ellis righted himself and started running.

Time's up.

The bomb went off, sending spewing body parts and chunks of concrete into the air. The car's alarm stopped wailing. The sniper rifle skidded across the road, smeared with blood. Silence cloaked the town once more. No one moved. The shotgun fell from Coach's grip and clattered to the ground.

"Oh God," he whispered. Rochelle stepped out into the open. She looked at Coach. She looked for Ellis. Nothing. She covered her mouth, dropping her hand gun.

Nick shoved past her, panting. He looked into the square where Ellis used to be. Now there was only a cloud of smoke.

"What did you do?" he screamed at Coach. "ELLIS!" He saw the unoccupied sniper rifle on the ground. His heart stopped.

No. No, this wasn't happening. This wasn't supposed to happen.

"ELLIS! FUCK, ELLIS!"

"I-I threw a bomb. I was tryin' to help, I swear!" Coach said hoarsely.

Nick didn't say anything to Coach. He just stared at the dissipating smoke, eyes stinging. His body shook uncontrollably. "Ellis..."

It was as if he could still hear his laugh. Nick just stared onward, hearing Ellis' laughter ring in his ears. And he never even got to tell him that there was more to the two of them than Nick's attitude and bullying.

The laughter echoing in Nick's ears grew louder and clearer. Nick's brow furrowed. His breath quickened as the laugh became more real. He squinted against the pile of bodies strewn around the blast area of the bomb.

"That was AWESOME!"

Through the smoke, Ellis emerged, holding his arm. Blood splattered and speckled his bare skin. But the smile on his face and the light in his eyes had returned even brighter than before.

"God says hi to y'all!" he whooped.

Coach relaxed and Rochelle screamed with delight. Nick's legs fumbled and sprang to life as he lurched forward and ran towards Ellis without even limping.

"Ellis!"

Ellis opened one of his arms as Nick slammed into him, almost sending the two of them sprawling. Ellis laughed harder. Nick started laughing as well, holding him close.

"But the bomb!" Nick panted. "How the hell did yah – "

"Hey, buddy, if yah ever knew Keith, you'd be doin' this every day!" Ellis laughed again. Nick stepped back, keeping firm hands on Ellis' arms. He looked at him up and down.

"Are you hurt at all?" Nick asked.

"Naw...yeah, a little," Ellis said.

"Where?"

"Well, the blast lifted me right off my feet and a piece of road clipped my arm, see. And I'm gunna have to replace my bandages and what-not..."

Ellis looked up at Nick's eyes. Ellis squinted slightly. He opened his mouth, only to close it again.

"What?" Nick prompted.

"Your eyebrow is, uh... busted."

Ellis reached up and smeared away at the stream of blood around Nick's eye. Nick winced slightly, but didn't object.

Coach looked around the square, tense. "C'mon guys. Back in the safe house before that happens again."

Back in the safe house, Rochelle was quick to boil another pot of water while Nick explained himself.

"I left this morning and honestly in the moment, I wasn't going to come back, but hear me out, 'kay? I was angry and in pain and being my old arrogant self."

"Oh, lemme guess, this is where you tell us that you've found God and were sent back on a mission, in turn changing your attitude towards life so now you're this softy?" Coach said with a chuckle.

"Shut up and listen to my story and eat your chocolate, fat ass," Nick replied. Coach chuckled again.

"Anyway, I came back with this." Nick reached down to the pouch fastened around his leg and pulled out a small radio along with two batteries. "Dunno if it'll work, but it'll give us a reason to stay until tomorrow. I swiped it from this convenience store. I also backtracked to the bank where Ellis was attacked and... and got in without tripping an alarm. I was going to grab some cash, but someone beat me to it."

"Water's done," Rochelle said. She pulled the old kettle off the gas stove and placed it on the counter. Coach tossed Nick a first-aid kit. He pulled out a pack of antiseptic wipes and ripped open the package. He handed them to Coach, who wiped the blood off Ellis' arm. He ripped open another pack. Rochelle took them in her outstretched hand and started to dab at Nick's eyebrow.

"As I was saying, there was no money in the bank, and my leg was killin' me, and, well, I thought that I should come back, so I did. It took me a while, though. I was gone for a good six hours. I fired two shots. The first one was aimed for one zombie right before I crossed the intersection to get into the damn safe house. Next thing I know, there's a fuckin' fleet after me. That's why I shot the car. I got a punched by a seventeen-year-old punk ass rotting corpse, which explains – OW! Ro', what the hell?"

Rochelle was pinching his split eyebrow together.

"Shut up, Nick."

"So, Nick, you left yer jacket in the bathroom," Ellis said. "Damn lucky you did, too! If we didn't find it, we wouldn'tuh been here when you came back."

Nick raised his good eyebrow as he glanced between Rochelle and Coach.

"You wouldn't leave me out there, would you?" he asked sardonically.

"Actually, we would," Rochelle said. "But Ellis was adamant that we stuck around."

"Oh?"

"Well, not 'adamant'..." Ellis muttered. "Whatever that means..."

"OW! Shit, Rochelle!" Nick shouted. He swatted her hand away. Rochelle put her hands on her hips.

"Fine, I hope you bleed to death in your sleep. Now suck it up and lemme see your knee."

Nick smirked at her and pulled up his pant leg. Rochelle stooped over it and removed the tensor bandage.

"Y'all didn't happen to get any lunch, did yah?" Coach said. He wrapped a dressing tightly around Ellis' bicep. Nick stared at Coach.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" he asked. "Dunno if yah noticed, Coach, but we're in a fuckin' candy shop."

Coach sneered at Nick. "Yah know what I meant."

"Sure."

Rochelle rewrapped Nick's knee and patted it mockingly. "There yah go, sunshine."

"OW! Stop it!"

Rochelle laughed to herself. "That's for taking my gun, bitch."

"Hey, that gun there saved Nick's ass," Ellis said with a grin. He slid off the counter and walked over to the stock room. "And helped save yer's, too. And you handle a pistol purdy good."

"Yeah, well, it's too small."

"That's what she said," Nick murmured.

"Oh, grow up."

Nick got off the counter with a sly grin and limped after Ellis. He paused in the doorway. Ellis' back was turned to him as he gazed at the hick. Ellis didn't notice Nick watching him.

Ellis was holding his jacket in his hands, staring at it. His hands tightened around it.

"Kid?" Nick asked. Ellis whirled around.

"Oh, err, I was jus', well," he stammered. "Here's your jacket."

Ellis shoved the blazer in Nick's hands and turned to go into the bathroom. Nick didn't even look down at his hands. He just shut the door and placed the coat on the handle. He slowly walked over to Ellis.

Ellis pulled his Bull Shifters shirt out of the sink and wrung it out. He hung it over the paper towel rod and drained the sink of the red water. Nick unbuttoned his blue shirt, watching Ellis' fractured reflection in the mirror. Ellis looked up and met his eyes. He turned around.

Nick was a foot away as he slowly slipped his shirt off his shoulders, feeling it roll over his muscles. He didn't even flinch as Ellis gulped and stepped back. He met the sink. He was trapped.

"Nick...?" he asked slowly. Nick pulled his arms out of his sleeves and lifted his shirt. He cleared the distance between them and pressed up against Ellis. Ellis gasped quietly, but didn't push him away.

Nick's mouth split into the slightest of grins as he leaned his face closer to Ellis'. Ellis just watched him. Nick reached behind the kid and dropped his shirt into the sink. He felt for the tap and turned it on.

"Excuse me," he said quietly in Ellis' ear.

Ellis blinked and stepped over to let Nick soak his shirt. He shoved past Nick into the stock room.

Nick tried to evaluate Ellis' reaction. Nick had tested him. Even the conman was lost on what the hick was thinking. The only key point he had was the fact that Ellis didn't resist. Didn't push him away. Didn't say 'no.'

"What you did today was pretty spectacular, kid," he said. Ellis didn't respond. "Didn't know you had it in yah."

"Yup."

Nick peeked over his shoulder. He saw Ellis pacing in the other room.

"I got something for you," Nick said. Ellis stopped pacing. Nick reached down his uninjured leg and lifted the pant leg to reveal a portion of his tensor bandage that had been severed. He untied it. "It didn't fit into my pockets, so I tied it to my leg."

Nick turned to the hick, holding his white and blue cap. Ellis' jaw dropped.

"I went back to the bank to get it," Nick muttered. Oh man, here comes an explanation. Nick looked down at his hands. "I felt guilty about last night, okay? I didn't mean anything I said and... I just suck at apologizing. So, here."

"Nick..."

Nick swallowed and kept talking.

"Look, I've spent my whole life not giving a shit. There's just something about you..." Nick looked up. "I thought you were fuckin' blown up today. I dunno how the hell you got out of there alive, but... let's just say I'm glad you did."

"Nick..." Ellis repeated. Ellis stepped up to Nick and grabbed the sides of his face gently. He leaned in and pressed his lips against the conman's. Nick froze, shocked. He closed his eyes and dropped the hat so he could wrap his arms around Ellis' body, pressing his chest against his. He dug his fingers into Ellis' bandaged back. Ellis caught his breath. Nick pulled back.

"Sorry."

"Shuddup," Ellis said as he pulled the conman back to him. He was shaking and tears entered his eyes as the two of them kissed. Nick tightened his grip around Ellis. Ellis pulled away and buried his face in the older man's shoulder.

"I'm goin' to hell, aren't I?" Ellis said with a laugh.

"Shit, kid, you're already there."

The two men just stood there holding each other, forgetting about their pain, the unforgiving world outside, all those weeks thinking about each other, and the chances of this moment ever happening.

Then again, the chances of a zombie apocalypse occurring were pretty slim, too.

FIN


End file.
